What Are You Talking About, He's Obviously Mine
by LobsterSalad
Summary: Setting: Stephen A. Schwarzman Building.   Plot: The  ex Allied gang are having a little sleepover with a triangle in between them. America wants horror stories, France wants orgies. The remaining are the main players. Supposedly. Request fic: England and Russia fighting over China.


**A/N :Gift Fic for you know who you are~! The request was for Russia and England to fight over China.**

**How it turned into this monster of 4, 783 words is beyond me.**

* * *

><p>A Chinese man walks into a bar and orders French wine. The Russian sitting to the left of him recommends vodka, but he is ignored. The Englishman sitting to the right of him sneers and says that French wine is for sissies, but he is impaled with a wok.<p>

Then the Russian sweeps up the Chinese and they make out passionately, while the Englishman passes out-

"Cut, cut, CUT!" A blonde man with gigantic eyebrows interrupts the storytelling. "That's not how the joke goes!"

"Aww, Iggy, how do _you_ know how it goes?" asked America, munching on some popcorn. The meeting room was dark, and the curtains were drawn. The only light came from the flashlights that every Allied nation held, sitting in a circle in between two long tables. America waved his under his chin, lighting it up in a horrific way. "I want to hear what happens next!"

"Right, you do, don't you?" Next to the American, a huge man who seemed to darken the room even more crouched, swaddling himself in a pink blanket. Gently caressing a sunflower design on his cover, Russia smiled and continued:

The Englishman passes out on the floor, but the Chinese and the Russian continue to-

"Cut, cut, CUT ARU!" This time, China interrupted and clapped a hand on Russia's mouth. "Why are we kissing in there aru?"

"China wants to kiss for real? We can do that~!" He moved closer to China, preparing to pepper him with kisses.

"N-no thank you. R-really aru."

"Exactly," said England, turning his mouth into a V. "We should be doing something serious, instead of-"

"Relax, Iggy," France cut him off, twirling a lock of his hair. "There's no one else other than us five. Alone. In this library. With the door locked and the curtains closed. Hark!" He gestured toward a window. "Hear that thunder! That rain pattering on the panes, there it is!" There was a slight flash of lightning, mostly concealed by the curtains, but the nations could still see the brief flash underneath the curtains. "Such atmosphere isn't suited for seriousness-it's for _l'amour_!"

"One strike for The Republic of France aru," said China. "The designated language this time is English." He scribbled a little black dot next to the name France on a sheet of paper that was in the middle of their circle.

"Hah! Serves you right, Frog," England said, snarky as ever. He glanced at China, who was still holding on to the sheet of paper. "Remember not to speak in that dreadful jargon that you call a language-but then again, you can't really learn other tongues that well with your _widdle_ brain, can you?"

"_Excuse me aru?_" The man turned and glared at England. "Russia, America, France, is it just me or did _Iggy_ call Chinese 'dreadful jargon?'"

"It's not just you, my dear China," France smirked at England, "We have all heard it."

"I want to get back to my joke, yes~?" Russia said, but the others eyes were focused on England.

England, who was growing flustered. And red. Shit, they thought that he called-no, the thing is that _China_ thought that he insulted him. "I-I don't mean _you_, I-I meant the Frog. Chinese is-is-" he had to say this, if only to get more brownie points, "b-beautiful."

Silence. Cue more thunder. Cue America freaking out and grabbing the person next to him. England. Cue England getting annoyed because someone was seeing him getting comfy with another person. Cue Russia smiling creepily.

"Now I can continue with my joke, right?" He moved closer to China. "Yao, if you want," he said shyly, "we can do the thing in the joke for real after I tell it, yes?"

B-bollocks, was Russia coming on to China? England struggled to get out of America's grip, but there was another growl of thunder, and he was almost squeezed to death by bulging muscles. The flashlights that each of them held didn't give much light, and they were pretty old, so they flickered, but England was pretty sure that he saw China blush. Nooo. Just. Nooooo.

The position that the five of them were sitting in wasn't really helping England's cause. When America insisted that having a sleepover in the New York Public Library, England had assumed that, America being America, would have the whole place set up in whatever American sleepover customs need. But upon the four of them arriving, every door to the Rose Reading Room was shut, bolted, the lights off, and the curtains (when did they install _curtains?_) shut. And the only set up that England could see was a Super King sized double mattress on the floor and the instruction for every person to bring their own sleeping bag.

(In case the picture isn't clear, let the kind author tell you that the Rose Reading Room is, uh- HUGEASS, UH, HUGE. Yeah, huge. Very huge. Huge-ously huge.)

And they were sitting/lying down in a very tight circle, because the room, as stated, was HUGE, and sitting tightly together gives people a sense of safety. There's a pile of paper and a lava lamp in the middle of them, with England shooting glances at the two next to him. Beside him was Russia, scooching closer to China and trying to cuddle. On the other side of England was America, currently committing murder of the United Kingdom by strangulation.

That left France between China and England, staring at the lava lamp and trying to figure out the meaning of life, whether he was going to be surrounded by idiots wherever he goes. There was, he thought, drama to be watched. The blushing China, the jealous England, the dominant Russia. The completely oblivious America. No matter where he went, _l'amour_ was present, and always, it was so _dramatic, complicated_. Oh yes, The Republic of France could see the signs.

Ahh, let Big Brother France take over the narration, since he is the one that sees so clearly...

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><p><strong>France POV<strong>

England had obviously dropped America on the head a few centuries ago. But if I had to accept that, then I'll have to accept that my two dear Spanish and Italian friends also suffered the same fate; the ability to read the mood had unfortunately passed then all.

I swear, America's lack of atmosphere reading had not come from me, honest. One look is all it takes for the Country of Love to make a simple diagram.

Russia- China -England

China-?

And yet, it must seem to America:

Big Bad Thunder. Grab onto nearest living thing. Living thing=England. More Big Bad Thunder=grab harder and try to kill your former caretaker.

Thereby preventing your former caretaker from getting in between the one he loves and his rival. The lovely _moi_ would help, but seeing as it was England, I felt compelled to watch him struggle some more.

Oooh, his face is turning such an interesting red, no? Is that heavy breathing? Now he's struggling to free his hand-oh! His hand is free! It's now trying to pry off the fat-pardon me, _muscular_- American. All the while Russia continues to try out some hilarious pickup lines.

"And so the joke continues-

The Englishman passes out and the other two make out. I ask you, 'Did it hurt?'"

"When did this turn into first person, aru?" But China was ignored.

"You are confused, and I continue to say, 'Do not it hurt when you fell from Heaven?'" He giggled. "So we continue to kiss and grope and I-"

"Okay, okay, aru. This is getting too hands on." China tried to subtly scooch away, and that meant leaning in towards _me_ a little. Well. I didn't mind, not at all.

"Continue, Russia, it is veery interesting," I said lazily, trailing a finger on China's hips.

"You like it?" the Russian beamed.

"Mmm, _yes_. The images are delicious." My hand was slapped away, but that didn't deter me from tracing my _eyes_ across the lovely frame of his body. Ah, it is such a bliss that I am surrounded by such beauty! Too bad that while all of them were fine _fine_ specimens on the outside...the insides leave much to be desired. Especially Eyebrows. But that is moving away from the topic of _l'amour_, so I must desist.

"Che, only a pervert like you would like a graphic detail of sex in a joke." Eyebrows seemed to have revived, and while he was addressing his snarky comment to me, I see that his "green orbs" are lighting up in jealousy as Russia continues to get closer to China.

"I agree with England aru," said China. "I don't feel comfortable hearing that joke aru."

"Aww, China is not comfortable with the joke?" I thanked the heavens that there was no darkening of the atmosphere, nor any distinctive "kolkolkol"s.

"No," he replied.

So Russia remained silent. That left the five of us (very, _very_ handsome _young_ men) to play with our flashlights and listen to America eat his chips.

Now.

We can't have that, can we? No, of course not. Imagine, five (hot) men together, with no official assignment, _cramped_ in a large room (because we love each other like that), with _sleeping_ bags. That means we were going to _sleep_ together tonight, since it's a _sleep_over, right? That meant that instead of the sound of crunching chips there should be _hot, bothered, panting, groaning, moaning _sounds of _love _at _work_.

These are people who probably have less romantic sense than a cockroach. There's one who can't read the atmosphere. One who I swear is abhorrent of love and good food. One who just seemed too bat shit insane to deal with love (no! I must believe in the power of _l'amour_!). And one who...one who...

Come to think of it, what kind of person is China in the affairs of love?

Ah well, I'll find that on the road to the five way orgy. Ohonhonhon~!

"I'm bored," I started, "Why don't we tell stories? We can have a competition on the best love _stories_ told."

America wrinkled his nose. "Why romance? Won't horror be better? Or action?"

"Ah!" I lifted my hand elegantly up to my forehead, "To be so uneducated! Listen." I pointed a finger at him. "Horror stories around the campfire is too cliched. And are action stories suitable for times before sleep? No! We want soothing. Love is soothing." Although soon I'll make them so hot that sleep is the _last_ thing they'll want.

"The frog makes a point," said England, to my surprise.

"...Eyebrows? You're agreeing with me?"

"O-only because what you said makes sense! Not because I want to hear romance or anything!" He glanced at China, who had just turned slightly and was looking at us in interest.

"I know a good romance aru," he said. "I bet this is the best one that would be told tonight, don't underestimate Big Brother China!"

"Hey, I'm the Big Brother. And, my dear, love _originates_ from me." I thought that I saw a horrified flicker in his eyes, but it passed soon. "But of course, I expect that your story would be better than anything the American and Eyebrows could dream up of."

"Hey now, man! Not cool. You ever read Gone With the Wind? That's American." America protested. "I write wicked cool romance novels. I mean, Twilight is American."

"That trash?" scoffed England. "Must've made Bram Stoker turn in his grave. You agree, right, China?"

"...It was so romantic aru," wait, was China crying? "She loves him so much, but they're divided by destiny. Though that doesn't stop them-"

"From becoming one with each other," continued Russia. "I like that book very much, too, China. We have something in common!"

"Asdfsds"-that was the description of England's face right then. Oh, how satisfying it was! I would sacrifice a night of passion to see more expressions like that on his face (payback for the Waterloo).

"So, anyway!" I coolly intervened between the thick UST that was brewing up (of course I can, I'm France), "Let's start. This story has to be real, based on experience, alright?"

"Wait, frog, are you telling us to spill out our romantic backgrounds or something?"

"...Yes," I answered. "It would bonding, no?"

I could see the wheels turning in his mind, and in Russia's mind. If they had the knowledge of their crush's past love stories...give me an applause, my dears. I have been oh so clever (leave everything to big brother).

XxXxXx

America brought a heater into the center of the circle, and the glow made us abandon our flashlights. They all turned their eyes on China as he began his tale (he drew the short stick)...

"If any of you placed a bet on me aru..."

England and Russia shook their heads and put on their most earnest expressions. England was blushing heavily, of that I was sure, as they both stared at him in anticipation. So China hesitatingly asked, "Really aru? No bets?"

"No bets."

He grinned. "Alright aru. Let me educate you four about _love_."

XxXxXxX

_Let me just say this first: I'm not going to tell you people his name. Yes, his. _

_It was around...2 thousand years ago, yes, around that time. I was a handsome young man aru-of course, I'm still young and handsome-but the point was that I was around your age (besides America) when I first saw him. Oh, I've heard of him before aru, but there was never a point in which I met him before he came to me. _

He pouted. I swear I saw the two love struck fools swoon.

_Cocky little bastard. Yes, he was all muscular and waved around this huge sword, but I could wave around swords too! Oh, don't get me started on his mouth. Dirty. Braggart. He'd be waiting, hidden behind something to jump out at me while I was strolling around. He'd wanted to look at my items, too. The palace was thoroughly explored by him. I'm ashamed to say that the brothels in the city was also thoroughly explored by him. He would sneak up on me, grab my shoulders, and ask what I was going to show him that day. It was only when-_

He stopped, smiling a little bitterly. "Well, stuff happened, we became lovers, he left, coming back only for short visits and then after a few years I never say him again aru." China put on a wry face. Muffling himself in his sleeping bag, he said, "I don't feel like talking anymore. Next person can go."

I looked at his figure, at Russia's gaze, and at England's gaze.

"He left you?" asked Russia. "I would never do that," he continued quietly. "I would always stand-"

"I would never leave you like he did," cut in England. He glared at Russia, the both of them engaged in a battle of will.

"Are you guys worried for me aru?" China stared evenly at the two of them. "Aww, thanks aru! I'm so glad I have both of you as friends aru! He only came for a visit, anyway, and he came back from time to time. At least while he was healthy...that guy..." he shook his head.

Big Brother was losing ground fast. I had hoped that at least one of them would react romantically to the stories, but so far there was no indications of any group orgies to come...! Maybe "romantic stories" were not the best choice, but "sexy hot stories" were...although there should be no difference between the two, of course.

Drastic times called for drastic measures. I'll have to abandon Plan A. Plan B: Thicken the UST even further.

"Well," I said, "Aren't you lucky, China, to have these two fine specimen of men fighting over you."

"...aru?"

"Of course," I continued, "If none of them are your type, I can always fill in. After all, as the master of love, France is-"

"_Kolkolkolkolkolkol_."

I stopped. While Russia did not bring a water pipe, it was never a good idea to mess with him (burning of Moscow...that bastard).

"Oh. Oh. Ooooooh." America pointed at England and Russia. "I see. You two have the hots for China!"

"...ARU?"

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><p><strong>America POV<strong>

And who said that I can't read emotions of people? I can so totally read that! I mean, just look at England's face, hilarious, man. (Even though I have no idea what the relationship between reading emotions and reading the book, The Atmosphere, have.)

Anyway, being the awesome hero I am, I decided to completely devote myself to helping England win over China's heart. It's not because I want to see Russia defeated or anything, it's just that England and I go waaay back, okay? Just because seeing Russia's crushed and broken hearted face would so totally make my day doesn't mean that I hate him! I just really dislike him.

"Anyway, China dude, England's a really nice guy," I said, right after my amazing epiphany. "I mean, his scones suck-"

"They do not-"

"-and he can't cook anything else for shit, but he likes tea, right? And no one else drinks that crap except for you two so you guys should totally hook up."

I heroically glanced at the group to see their awed reaction to my logical reasoning. China was so impressed that he was facepalming in recognition to my most reasonable reasoning. France was staring at me in amazement because he was so dumb that he could never come up with something like what I just said. England was, of course, gesturing wildly and blubbering in gibberish because he was in such gratitude to the kind words that I offered-aww, he knew that the hero always came through. Russia was mortified, of course, even before I attacked him verbally with my heroicness- he was so mortified I bet his smile was his insanity reaching a peak.

Who said I couldn't read emotions? I just did.

"I'm closer to China." stated Russia simply.

Did that dude just say something in defense of himself, and so, in offense to me and England? (We're a team, now, England and I. I'm gonna give him China's heart even if I have to build a superhero for it.)

"Noo way. They have a friggin' _lovechild_."

"AMERICA YOU DID NOT JUST SAY THAT ARU!" For some reason, China suddenly shouted this, and he turned really red. I guess he was just embarrassed at having the scandal uncovered.

"Well," I said, "isn't Hong Kong you and England's lovechild?"

...

For some reason, _both_ England and China got so worked up on this, they kept shouting things at me. I think I heard them, but things just went in one ear and went out the other way.

Hey, that's heroicness for you.

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><p><strong>And Now it's England's POV<strong>

I couldn't believe that git- I must have dropped him on the head as a child. He was going to ruin the already slim chances of China reciprocating my feelings. Bloody hell. Remind me why I'm in love again?

Ignoring the idiot, I glanced at China. He was trying to ignore everyone around him, and was that-was that a blush? B-Bloody hell, I could feel the blood rushing to my face now, too. I shot a glare at Russia, who was trying to lay his bloody hands on China _again_. There was no way I'd let anyone get him, except for me.

...

Wait, didn't that guy-his past lover-get to him already?

...

Well, that was in the past.

Right now, I had a Russian to worry about. And an American. (Why is that idiot such an-an _idiot?_) And- and what was China thinking about? It'll hurt so much if after all these years of pining away, he turns his back on me. That would be awful.

So I hit bloody America on the head and gave him an earful. "You arse! You stupid arse! You !##$ #$# W#$$# arse! How can two men have kids together in the first place?"

To which he responded (and oh hell his answer sucked), "By the power of fangirlism~! Lemme tell you, mpreg is apparently so hot and cute that _it's possible_."

Pause.

More pause.

More pause as the group silently decides that, yes, America has finally gone insane.

And this is the guy that's 'on my side'.

I thought longingly about China, next to France and Russia. Who's about to slip out of my grasp and into a Russian's arms because my son is too stupid.

That was the exact moment when the Frog saved my mind, with a wave of his hairy hands and his leer grin that could send Darth Vader crying home to mummy.

"Well, now that we all agree on the mindlessness of America, why don't you switch places with me, England?"

Right next to China.

I owe you one for this, Frog.

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><p><strong>And Now Let's Leave the Minds of the Nations Because They're All Boring (Dirty) Old Men Inside, Really<strong>

Russia twitched in irritation as England settled next to China. _His _China, no matter the Sino Soviet split- he changed from the collapse, anyway. At least England had America helping him- that would increase Russia's chance of winning the heart of his love dramatically.

No matter how people compare love and war, those two are completely different things. Unless they were talking about a triangle, of course. Triangles seemed to be really irritating right now, if only one point of it was _removed_, then there would be a mutual relationship without any interference.

Obviously England had to be removed. Just.

"-ussia? Russia aru!"

Ah, Yao's face seemed so...swoon worthy. He grinned sweetly and stared down at his handsome little lover (to be, but that's besides the point).

"Are you okay aru? You're kind of-"

Those clear almond eyes, the way the eyebrows would swoop down and scrunch up (without the humiliation of being thick like a certain nation's). The fine chiselled nose- not too large, but not too small. He loved it when China scanned him with a penetrating gaze, as if he's (hot, bothered, panting) barely wearing anything.

"-on fire aru, you look so red. You don't have a fever?" And did he mention how he liked his love's voice? Right now, he could die happy hearing that princely, steadfast voice.

"My dear, I'm sure he's fine," said France, waving his hand.

He thought that he saw disappointment flash through China's face, but it was quickly replaced by one of worry. "Really aru?" China placed both hands on Russia's head, preparing to check his forehead.

This is the moment. The Berlin Wall falls, Soviet ships reach the space, the Romanov dynasty is done away with, revolution comes, _China is going to check his forehead sensually, so clooose-_

But not before England had anything to say to it.

"Wait!" England grabbed China's hand and flung it away from Russia's face, pushing China to sit up so he gained access to Russia and placed a cool hand on the forehead of a very pissed nation.

"No, he doesn't have a fever. There's no need to thank me, Russia," England said, panting hard from the stress and sending a triumphant glare at Russia. He pushed in between the two of them, placing himself in the middle of the Chinese and the Russian.

"Aha, you go, DAD! I mean, England." Leaning to China, America whispered, "You don't mind dating a guy with a ton of kids, do you? I mean, he was a very nice dad and all, just sucks at bringing us up-"

"AMERICA STOP THAT!"

"No, no, please, do go on,", said Russia pleasantly.

XXXXX

The night was spent that way, with tensions never ever resolved, to France's disappointment.

Russia and England glared at each other whenever possible and America kept pestering China to tell him how good a person England really is, even if he's an asshole. Eventually China nodded off to sleep and the two of them, America and France, was left to ignore the glares that were passed between the other two.

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><p><strong>What Happened In the End<strong>

"So, China, I relegate upon you the completely no pressure task of choosing. Russia or England?" Nantucket seemed to bounce up and down as America rambled on to China. "Of course you'll choose England, right? I mean, the connection you guys had via Hong Kong must've been admirable. Especially compared to the Russian bit- I mean, especially compared to the Sino-Soviet Split. Just choose one of them, no pressure."

...

"Oh aru."

...

"Ooooh aru."

...

"So, what's been happening is that England and Russia both _like_ me aru?" cooed China, "Aww, you two shouldn't have~ Now you made me feel all embarrassed." He snuck a glance at the two said nations and blushed.

...

"What are you talking about, he obviously likes me better!"

"No, comrade, it's me."

"Ooph- What- gah- are - guh- you dreaming about?"

"Dreams- ouch- come true- ouch don't they? _Kolkolkolkol_."

x

"Huh? Why should I stop them aru?"

...

Derp.

* * *

><p><strong>In Another Universe<strong>~~~~

"He's mine."

"What are you talking about? He's no one's, and even if he is going to be someone's, then he's _mine_. Right, Yao?"

Yao flipped his magazine lazily, humming, "Mm, yeah, sure, whatever aru."

Arthur smiled, "See, Braginski?"

Ivan also imitated Arthur's shit eating grin. "But Yao, you're supposed to love me, right?"

The Asian male placed down his magazine and went to check his cooking pot on the stove, wondering when those people would leave him and get out of his kitchen. "Mm, yeah, sure, whatever aru."

He checked the time, "Hey guys, my family's coming over today aru. So can you two get the hell out of here before I get out my wok?"

...

Derp.


End file.
